Sunday, December 26, 2004

Last night I dreamed that Shawn Foreman & I were arguing, and then he fell off a bridge, landing at my feet. I thought he was dead, but he was alive, though badly shaken. Some strangers, two women, stopped and brought us to their home; one of them was a cousin of mine who has never existed in this world; a daughter of my Aunt Marge; Aunt Marge asked me not to tell anyone her daughter's secret (she's gay), but her daughter seems so OUT and has such a loving wife; I agreed none-the-less.

It was the 1920's. And Shawn was sitting next to me in a high, wicker-backed chair near a roaring fire, surrounded by friends and family; his family. The room was very 'rich' with all the trimmings of that era. Shawn's mother asked him about his father, and Shawn looked at me...all I could see were his eyes; he was crying, broken, and angry.

A woman was blowing bubbles and my little sister was swept away inside one of them, until I popped it and set her free. She began playing beautiful music on the piano, but I soon realized it was a trick of the machine, which played itself. I joined her, much to the delight of those gathered around us, and Shawn laughed through his tears.

And I woke up. There were other dreams that followed, of beaches, oceans, skinny-dipping clubs, and friendly pincer-crabs; of a city overrun by gay activists, and other strange spirits. I woke up the 2nd time to hear the shower running. I considered going back to sleep, but felt I had slept enough; it was nearly 2pm. As I made my way to join Mark in the shower, I remembered the previous dream about Shawn and started feeling sad; not because of the dream, but because I haven't seen him in so long; and when I have, we haven't had one of our talks. Too much going on to talk, or to share, or to be friends.

We are, of course, friends; people can't go through what we have, speak to each other, and not be friends, but there's a distance now that I never expected. Mark made me laugh in the shower & the world lost it's darkness, for a little while anyway. And then I came here to write.

Friday night, Chirstmas Eve, I went to my Grandmother's home, and gathered with my relatives for what is generally a good time. I sometimes feel alien there; removed, different, but that feeling has been lessened over the years, and I had a good time seeing so many relatives and people, and talking and laughing, playing with children.

As the night was about to end, my Mother approached me and asked me when I would return her video camera. I borrowed her video camera 1997; I used it to great effect for about a month and it died. I was so afraid my mom would be upset; I took it to a repair shop, and they told me that they didn't fix this kind of camera any longer because it was too old, and that they had even stopped producing the tapes for it. I told my Mother the bad news the next day, and I was crying because I felt so bad; she was upset, but she said it was alright. Now...7 years later; she askes me when I'm returning it? When I reminded her that it was broken she cried, and left upset, after telling me that my Great-Grandfather gave her that camera. I was shocked; I had no idea, and then I was doubtful, because that in no way sounded like anything he would have done. I told Janice and Jamie (my sisters) about this, and Jamie said that Grandpa did not give her the camera and she knew this because she was with our mother when she bought it. I went to see my Mother and asked her again about it, and she said she bought the camera with money left to her when my Great-Grandfather died. Now that is NOT the same thing! I told her again that we had discussed this several years ago and that she had been sad, but understanding then, and that I didn't understand why this was coming back now. She said: "You borrowed it.". That was never in question. It's like she's blocked it out; which isn't too surprising I guess.

For Mother's day I gave my mom a DVD Player and a $100.00 gift card for MediaPlay so she could buy some DVD's; if I'd known this was going to happen, I would have bought her a video-camera. I don't think she even used that video-camera; I don't think she has any tapes that she recorded with it. It just sat in her room, collecting dust; I remember when I borrowed it, I had to clean it, it was so dusty.

I feel like...she was trying to be nice to me, when she told me that it was ok about the camera before, but then changed her mind or something. She has a history of that kind of stuff. I remember when I was very young; my father was gone at this point, in a hospital or just not living with us, and my mom bought my older sister Janice a black & white tv and she told her that our father had bought it for her and that he loved her. Later, Janice & mom were fighting about dad, and Janice said "He loves me; he bought me that television.": if you could have heard Janice's voice and how desperately she needed to believe that statement; it sounded like she was trying to convince not only mom, but herself as well; it makes me cry. Mom told her the truth right then; that she had bought the television for her. I can't tell you how broken Janice was; I was always very protective of her, but I was listening to this fight and didn't want to be discovered; and I was shaken from the arguing; they seldom argued, and this one was so brutal. Now, I don't think my mom should have gotten the tv for Janice and lied to her; but I understand why she did, and I forgive her for that. I don't forgive her for telling her the truth later on; though I've never discussed this with her.

There are other instances; horrible, bloody experiences, that I could dredge up, but won't; not today. My mother is like a little girl in my mind. I don't think she's ever really grown up, even with all the difficult choices she's been forced to make. And I think of her as a child, and it makes her behavour a little less annoying. I told this to Mark once, and he didn't understand; after Christmas Eve he told me that he finally understood.

   posted by Bald Jason at 02:50 PM
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